


shouting love at the world

by taizi



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU where basically everything is the same, F/M, Five Times series, I have a soft spot for Adrien so just be ready for that, New to this fandom dont know how to tag, writing this bcus my friend challenged me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 22:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6168292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taizi/pseuds/taizi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Adrien and Marinette never met, and one time they did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	shouting love at the world

1.

“Oh, Alya, I don’t know,” you say tremulously for what might be the tenth time in as many minutes. “What if they’re mean to her?”

Your sweet Tikki blinks big brown eyes at you, resting her chin in the cradle of your palms, the _perfect_ symbol of everything good and cute and precious in this world, and your breath catches in your throat; your roommate, bless her heart, folds her hands calmly and breathes through her nose.  

Due to a last-minute scheduling error regarding Alya’s photojournalism class, Tikki will be all alone for _hours_ on Mondays and Wednesdays. It makes sense to hire a dog walker to check in on her twice on those days, but you’re already experiencing what feels like separation anxiety.

“For the _tenth_ _time_ ,” Alya says with tempered patience, “—she’ll be _fine._ You think I would have recommended you a _sub-par_ dog-walking service? These people are paid professionals—all of them go through background checks and animal CPR certification and dog-training classes. They’re probably _over-_ qualified to babysit your puppy for an hour, capiche? Now hurry up, or you’ll be late.”

You trust Alya, and you’re really actually late already, so you press a kiss to your puppy’s head and slink reluctantly out the door to catch the campus shuttle. Your heart is in your throat all morning, and you keep darting glances at your phone—then there’s a text message waiting for you, from a number you don’t recognize, and you abandon your lecture notes _immediately._

**_Salut! This is Adrien, from ‘Doggone Pawesome Dogwalkers.’ Your roommate told me it was okay if I brought your puppy a playdate, since neither of you have any allergies. I figured it might make Miss Tikki feel better about having to play host today, and I was right—they’re already BFFs!_ **

Attached is a picture of your poodle curled around a small black cat, with bright eyes and a little blue service vest. Tikki’s tail is a blur in the photo from the sheer force of her obvious glee, and you’re so relieved she’s having a good time that it takes the space of a minute for tears to prick your eyes.

Then your phone vibrates in your hand again, before you can feel too ridiculous about getting weepy. ****

**_I hope I didn’t bother you in class. I just thought you might like to know she’s okay._ **

**_No that's fine!_** you text back rapidly. **_Send as many pics as you want!_**

At that, he sends you a bunch of ‘!!!’s and a smiley, then takes your blanket permission and _runs_ with it, blowing up your phone for the next hour. In fact, for the first two months you know him, you know him exclusively through the candid pictures he sends you of your baby girl two days a week, all captioned with a string of emojis or some witty little comment that finds you either rolling your eyes or muffling helpless laughter with your hands. And you have no idea what he looks like or what kind of person he is when he’s not playing nanny to an eleven week old, but you know he’s taught Tikki how to shake hands and play dead, and you know he brings her treats and toys and sometimes a kitty friend to play with, and you know you can’t help but smile when his name lights up your phone.

And then one day, the worst of a winter storm closes campus early. The shuttles are still running to help students home, and your apartment is only a few blocks away. Alya was having lunch with her parents, and tells you when you call her not to worry, she’s already home. You hurry upstairs, shivering in the cold, exposed stairwell, and juggle your books and your bag to get your key in the lock.

Then the door swings open for you, and helpful hands catch the pile of books threatening to tip out of your arms. “Marinette! I’m glad you made it home okay,” your dog-walker says, a note of obvious relief in his voice, “You texted me about campus closing almost an hour ago, I was starting to get a little worried.”

And you look up—and up—into warm, sea green eyes. He’s summer and golden and smiling at you in a way that makes it hard to reconcile him with the dorky texts that fill the inbox on your phone, and Tikki is sitting at his feet and leaning heavily into his leg, looking up at you with happy, honey eyes, and—

“You aren't busy tonight, are you Adrien? I think you should stay here,” Alya says abruptly from the other side of the room, where she’s curled comfortably in an overstuffed armchair, smiling into her coffee mug. “It’s getting nasty out there. Poor Plagg shouldn’t have to go out in that.”

The Plagg in question is curled up in her lap and at peace with the world, not so much as twitching at the sound of his name. You give Alya a suspicious sidelong look that she chooses to ignore.

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Adrien blurts right away. “I mean—wouldn’t that make you uncomfortable? You don’t even know me,” he adds—the same boy who uses too many emoticons when he texts, who laughs at his own plethora of bad puns, who owns a therapy cat because his father ruined him in a handful of small, central ways you can only guess at, who sings to your puppy in French when it storms, who sometimes leaves pastry boxes of macaroons in your kitchen because they’re your favorite—

And something warm and fond folds fingers around your heart. You shake your head at your roommate’s meddling and maybe at yourself a little bit, too, and then offer Adrien a smile that seems to surprise him.

“I know enough,” you say, and the wide, beaming grin you get from him in return is like a shant of sunlight over snow, impossibly bright, impossibly beautiful, igniting something brand new and breathtaking inside of you that burns and burns and burns.


End file.
